


Night of the Unliving Not-Dead

by ThayerKerbasy



Series: The Path Not Taken [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 13, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crowley is family, Demons, Gen, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:33:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27046531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThayerKerbasy/pseuds/ThayerKerbasy
Summary: Crowley had a plan. He suspected the Winchesters would object, so he conveniently forgot to inform them. Easier to ask forgiveness blah, blah, blah.
Relationships: Crowley & Jack Kline
Series: The Path Not Taken [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1973947
Comments: 22
Kudos: 14
Collections: SPNColdestHits





	Night of the Unliving Not-Dead

**Author's Note:**

> Technically written as part of a series but can be read on its own just fine. Canon divergent after 12x08. Lucifer ended up back in the Cage, Crowley didn't meddle, thus Lucifer didn't go on a killing spree, all the people we care about are fine, and Crowley's had about half a season to ingratiate himself with the guys.

**One Week Ago**

The group of demons gathered at Crowley’s behest were hardly Hell’s best and brightest. If anything, many of them were chronic underachievers. A few were moderately capable, but nothing to write home about. The one thing they all had in common was that none of them had been terrible people before becoming demons.

“If I might have your attention?” Crowley spoke and all conversation ceased. These, at least, were obedient minions. “I know, you’re all abuzz with curiosity as to why I’ve gathered you here. But first, if you please, a question. How many of you, given the opportunity, would choose to be mortal again? You know what, close your eyes, all of you. I want to see a show of hands without anyone fearing the consequences. Yes, that means you too, whoever you are in the back peeking between the fingers over your eyes. I want total anonymity here.”

The results were even better than he’d expected. Nearly half of the group were interested. “What an interesting experiment. Now, on to the real reason I requested the pleasure of your company. I need a trustworthy group of demons to keep tabs on the malcontents in Hell. You all know how they can get. Those aggro types all want to be in charge and they don’t care who they have to step on to get there. I’d like you to be my eyes and ears. Let me know if you think someone’s going to try something.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d planted spies among his own people, but it was the first time he’d done so with no intention of collecting their data. He gave assignments to all the demons who were content with their lot and sent them on their way.

When it was just Crowley and those who wanted a change — he closed the doors and listened to make sure the others were gone — he smiled. “Now, here’s where things get interesting. What if I told you there was a way you could be human again? We’re not talking hypothetical anymore. How many of you would truly want that? It’s alright if you’ve changed your mind, you can leave.”

Of course he couldn’t just let them leave, but thankfully he didn’t have to worry about silencing anyone, because they all stayed. 

“Well then, it seems we have a business proposition to discuss. In a few weeks, I’ll be in a position to cure anyone who wants out. If you truly wish to reclaim your humanity, I have a job for you.”

**Now**

Jack and Crowley arrived at the Eastview Cemetery where it seemed like nothing was wrong. Brow furrowed, Jack peered at the wrought iron gates. “Are we in the right place? I don’t see anything.”

“I’m quite certain this is the location I heard on the police radio,” Crowley replied, handing Jack a pair of pistols and a box of ammo. “Perhaps we should get a closer look. After all, it’s not like we’re dealing with the smartest monster here. They’re probably just on the other side of the cemetery.”

Traditional weaponry was something Jack hadn’t considered. Crowley had been right to think of a way to keep them at a distance. If it had been up to Jack, he’d have charged in with just his powers, leaving him vulnerable to attack. 

Jack nodded solemnly and accepted the weapons. “That makes sense. We intercepted the call for backup right before flying here—”

“Teleporting, thank you,” interrupted Crowley.

“I’m sorry. I sometimes forget you don’t have wings.”

“No offense taken. You can’t help that you need to rely on wings. Not like I’m not planning to give all that up in a few weeks anyway.”

Armed with a gun in each hand, they set off. The cemetery gate swung open easily, granting access to the extensive burial grounds beyond. Though it must have been inconvenient for mourners, the first half of the grounds sloped upward, leading to the existing graves at the top where it leveled out.

Attempting to contain his excitement, Jack replied, “You’re going to like being human. At least, I think so. I guess I can’t really say for sure, seeing as I’m only half human, but Sam and Dean seem to think it’s a good thing.”

Crowley scoffed. “Yes, well, they’re not exactly typical representations of humanity, are they?”

Jack was saved from having to answer by the appearance of their quarry. Several dozen half-rotted corpses milled around in an aimless crowd. Facing each other, they kept trying to walk but got in each other’s way, corpse bumping into corpse and bouncing back like a remote control car hitting a wall. It was keeping them pinned in place as long as they focused on each other.

Ducking behind a nearby monument, Crowley gestured for Jack to follow. While Jack double-checked his guns were fully loaded, Crowley whispered, “Now remember, headshots kill, anything else is merely a wasted bullet. Don’t use your powers unless you get swarmed. For one, shooting is faster, but more importantly, you’re still sorting them out and your overprotective fathers would have my hide if they found out.”

“Okay but most importantly, the only thing more epic than shooting down a bunch of zombies would be bashing them in the head with like, a crowbar or something.” Jack grinned until he noticed Crowley’s serious expression. Forcing his smile into something that felt like it could be apologetic, Jack said, “Don’t worry, Uncle Crowley. I promise to be safe.”

Crowley eyed him dubiously, but nodded. “On my mark, start shooting. Lead them my way if you need to.”

Though he agreed, Jack barely heard what Crowley was saying. His mind was already thinking about the coolest way to kill zombies. If he could work out the right angles, he might be able to ricochet bullets off tombstones to shoot zombies without standing up. Yeah, that’d be cool.

No sooner did Crowley point at the zombies than Jack was up and firing. He had no idea what Crowley was hitting or missing, but Jack had never missed a shot in his whole (admittedly short) life. The first zombie dropped and the rest groaned, “Braaaaiiiinsss.”

One fell back from the force of the bullet. Another practically flipped over backwards. Most crumpled to the ground in a heap where they stood. It was incredibly satisfying watching each zombie fall, one after the other.

At least, it was satisfying until he ran out of bullets.

Unconcerned, Jack pulled a handful of bullets out of his pocket and began reloading his pistol while the undead shuffled toward him. Zombies were slow, it wasn’t like they could seriously keep up with him. All he had to do was walk backward as fast as they were moving forward, which would have been incredibly simple if he wasn’t in a cemetery.

The tombstone he tripped over was short, little more than a flat rock embedded in the ground. In a few years, it would likely sink into the earth, becoming level with everything around it. If Jack had seen it, he could have avoided it easily. Instead, he fell hard on his ass in the dirt.

The zombies celebrated by shuffling a little faster.

Jack knew his horror movies — while Dean hadn’t exactly approved, Jack had borrowed from his horror movie collection when he was first learning to control his powers, so he could get a better idea of what hunting monsters was like — so he knew better than to try to get up. From his position on the ground, Jack hastily fumbled bullets into the chambers of one pistol. There was no way he’d manage both, so he’d just have to make his shots count.

As far as he was concerned, it was still a great plan. Unfortunately, when he raised his gun to aim, he found the zombies were much closer than he thought. If he shot one, it would land on top of him, which was another problem he didn’t really need.

In desperation, Jack kicked out at the nearest zombie. He only hoped to push it away so he could shoot it. Instead, it fell back and knocked over the one behind it. That one, in turn, fell into another, which hit another, the whole herd toppling like a line of dominoes. Jack couldn’t help grinning.

While the zombies struggled to get up — and succeeded only in pushing each other down — Jack picked himself up and dusted himself off. Taking a moment to appreciate just how gross the zombies were, he shot each one of them in the face. Only then did he think to see how Crowley was doing.

Crowley, as it turned out, was just fine. He had a pile of zombies on the ground and was shoving bodies back into graves. When he noticed Jack looking at him, he smiled. “Most of the herd went for you. Don’t worry, I was keeping an eye on you. If you really needed help, I would’ve had your back.”

If the rest of Jack’s family had been there, they would’ve been sure Crowley was lying. Even though they trusted him more than they used to, they never seemed to miss a chance to call him a liar.

“That’s okay,” Jack replied. “I was awesome! I was a badass zombie hunting hero, just like in the movies.”

Kicking the last body from his pile back into the ground, Crowley smirked. “I suppose it’s a good thing you were the hero then, and not the plucky sidekick, or you might not have made it.”

Jack thought back to his movie research. “That’s not necessarily true though. Sometimes the plucky sidekick survives to the end. I actually think those ones are the best.”

Crowley’s smile became something a little more genuine and he clapped Jack on the shoulder. “Well then, mighty hero, what say you and I go put those things back where they came from?”

“I’d like that, Uncle Crowley.” Glancing at the crumpled body in the grave at Crowley’s feet, Jack hesitated before continuing, “It’s just…don’t you think we should try to put the bodies back in the right graves?”

Moving to Jack’s heap of zombie dominoes, Crowley used his demon powers to shove two bodies into the nearest grave. “No time. Honestly, I’m surprised the police aren’t already here. Must’ve gotten held up on a midnight donut raid, or perhaps their late night random beatings ran long. No, we don’t want to be here when they arrive, if only to save you from having to concoct a plausible lie.”

That was good thinking. Jack wasn’t very good at lying. “You’re right. We should hurry.”

He wasn’t very good at using his powers yet, but he was powerful, so it was easy to sweep the rest of the zombie heap into a single grave. The pile of bodies overflowed the hole, so he shot half of them over into a second grave and swept the first few he’d shot into a third. Expecting approval, he beamed at Crowley and dusted off his hands. “Done and done.”

Crowley stood with his mouth gaping open, looking like he was searching for the right words to say. Whatever he might have said went unsaid, though, because of the police car that pulled up outside the cemetery gates. Instead, he smiled and said, “Job well done. What say you and I see if we can find somewhere we can grab a bite to eat.”

Jack watched the police officers get out of their car. “But, I don’t need to eat.”

“Neither do I,” Crowley shrugged. “Doesn’t mean we can’t. How’s about we go to Italy and pick up some gelato? We can bring some back for the gents at home.”

That sounded like fun, especially bringing some back to share. Jack liked sharing. He was most looking forward to sharing the story of his first zombie hunt.

**Two Hours After Now**

After the lad was safely delivered back home with a belly full of gelato, Crowley left Jack to tell his tale. It wasn’t only that he didn’t want to be there when the overprotective parents unsheathed their claws, but that was certainly a factor. It just so happened he had another reason.

When he returned to the cemetery, he was greeted by a herd of corpses — notably not in their mass graves — and two police officers, all milling about in an impatient crowd. The moment he entered their field of view, all eyes turned to him.

Crowley sighed and threw up his hands. “What the bloody hell are you all doing? I thought you were at least smart enough to keep your heads down. What if someone saw you?”

One particularly desiccated corpse spoke over the crowd. “Not many people visit boneyards at this time of night, My Lord. There was a young couple, but they took one look at us and ran off screaming.”

“Yeah, that was the best part of the night,” said another. “That guy was all suave and shit until he saw us, and then he totally shoved his girl so he could get away faster. Betcha that’s one dude who ain’t gonna get another date.”

Seeing the futility of reprimanding a bunch of demons as dense as the corpses they inhabited, Crowley addressed the pair wearing police officers. “You two have no such excuse, but as I doubt you have anything of substance to add, we’re going to move right along to pretending you aren’t all useless sacks of shit, because you did manage to get one thing right. The child, naive as he is, completely bought your performances. Best hunt ever, he said.”

“Uh, Sire?” One of the officers seemed incapable of remaining silent. “Me and Baphomet pretended we were zombies after you and the kid left. That chick was actually pretty scared of zombie cops.”

Crowley sighed. “Let’s be honest here, Barney. She would have been scared even if you weren’t pretending to be zombies. Your homework for today is to dig through your meatsuit’s memories and catalog all the times he’s violated human rights.”

Noting the vacant stares from the crowd, Crowley raised his voice. “As for the rest of you, I want you to scour the world for new meatsuits, with one important distinction: your new body needs to already be vacant. To clarify, if I catch anyone wearing someone already occupied, or if you kill the owner to take it, I will know. The punishment for unethical acquisition will be ineligibility for demonic purification.”

The fake zombies stared at him as brainlessly as the genuine article. Sighing, Crowley rephrased, “If you cheat at finding an empty meatsuit, you don’t get to become human again.”

Comprehension lit the eyes of the massed corpses, leading Crowley to wonder if he was doing the right thing by keeping them out of Hell. Humanity didn’t really need more slobbering idiots. 

Off to the side of the mob, the other “police officer” made a little sound of discovery. Before Crowley could do more than roll his eyes, “Officer Baphomet” started rambling. “I know you didn’t say it was my homework, but ‘cause Barney and me did the same stuff, I figured you meant me too, so I went looking, and boy did this guy ever do some demonic crap. The only thing he’s ever served and protected was his own ass.”

“I’m not in the business of awarding extra credit, but bravo, you managed to learn something today. Now, how do you imagine that girl felt with you two chasing after her?”

“Uh…” Baphomet trailed off.

“Never mind, don’t strain yourself. We’ll revisit this when you’re human again, for which you’ll need what?”

“A new meatsuit? But this one’s a dick. Can’t I just take his?” 

“Ah, but then how would he learn from this experience.” Baphomet stared blankly in response, so Crowley ploughed on. “Which is another thought we’ll have to come back to later. Suffice to say, no. I said unoccupied and I meant it. Be good, kiddies. Papa knows all your sins.”

He was about to teleport away when he had a thought. “Oh, and be sure to put your current meatsuits back where you found them. It’s one thing to wear the dearly departed as a zombie costume, but it’s entirely disrespectful to leave them lying about when you’re done. When I return, I expect to see this cemetery as clean as it was when you found it.”

Leaving the demons to their cleanup, Crowley snapped his fingers and teleported back to the Bunker. With any luck, the guys would be done grilling Jack for details of all the things Crowley had done wrong. If they weren’t, he’d have to wait, since he certainly didn’t want to spill the secret of the zombies-that-weren’t where Jack could hear. Besides which, there was no way Crowley was saying a word about how much danger Jack hadn’t been in until after the Winchesters had made their opinion of Crowley quite clear. They deserved a chance to dig themselves as deep as they liked before he revealed the truth. Maybe if they were at the bottom of a metaphorical pit, they might not overreact when he told them he’d promised to cure a couple dozen demons after they’d cured him in a week or so.

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a few months since I posted anything. Apparently a global pandemic isn't so great for creativity. Coldest Hits is back though, and that dragged a story out of me. This month's theme asked us to write [campy monster fun](https://www.pillowfort.social/posts/1620172) and my brain immediately went to zombies. Who doesn't love a terrible zombie movie? I'm not sure if I managed campy, but I definitely had fun with it.


End file.
